A Different Experience for a Different Person

c/w suicidal ideations, depression

Hi all. It has been a week. I’m currently writing this with chip debris sprawled onto my shirt, no pants on, and the stain of tears on my cheeks. So clearly, I have been struggling.

After my post last week, I felt a moment of relief, as I usually do after writing. Usually that relief sticks around for awhile, but this time it didn’t. I kept doing things that I thought would bring that feeling back. I ate, drank water, ran, cleaned. Anything I could think of that usually brings me back to a good place, I did. In fact, I rented a car drove 2 1/2 hours to some mountains, hiked for 5 hours, and then stayed in a hotel room before coming back. After that hike I thought to myself “this is going to do it. This will fix it all.”

I was wrong. It didn’t fix it this time. Nothing seemed to be fixing it this time. I watched videos on tapping, I did yoga, I journaled, I slept a decent amount of hours each night. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I even had time off of work. Nothing. Without fail, I still felt empty and sad and cried for most of the days. I kept racking my brain on what else I could do to get out of this slump. What is going to bring me joy? How can I just feel better because I need to feel better.

For a very long time I avoided the idea of medication. It was one of those things where I would encourage and support anyone close to me to use it if that felt right for them, but it didn’t feel right for me. This past week I thought about why that was. There are a lot of reasons. Most important being that I tried medication when I was a teenager. The medication made me more suicidal than I had already been. I feared this same shift if I were to try it again. I also know that stigma played a major role. I advocate for others day in and day out, but I am not immune to internalized stigma. So, I tried to think what I would say to a friend who was thinking about using medication.

Right now, I feel broken. When our legs are broken we go to the doctor, we get surgery, we take medicine. Right now my heart and my head are broken. I go to my therapist and I take my vitamins, but it isn’t enough. What is wrong with taking medication to help me feel better? Nothing was coming up except for fear of my past self. However, I am not the same person I was when I was in high school. I have done a lot of growing and I am so much stronger and I thought about how this medicine could help make me even stronger.

I made the appointment with my doctor. She had a me take a quiz prior to the visit to rate my anxiety and my depression. On the depression scale I was 19, moderately severe, just bordering severe. She walked me through her thought process on what she thought would be best to prescribe me. I disclosed the full details of my experience in high school and shared my fears. I like my doctor, she listens to me. She prescribed me Wellbutrin, expressing that she would start me on the lowest dose and we would meet every three weeks while we are exploring what’s best for me. She was empathetic and kind and listened. When I was in high school, I said I was sad, and a doctor gave me SSRI’s and I didn’t even really know what I was taking. It was already a different experience. After my doctors appointment I met with my therapist.

She told me she was proud of me for taking steps and for getting support where I could. She reminded me that my fears of medication are valid, while also reminding me that I have grown up and can be more conscious of warning signs. She reflect on the fact that my support system is now stronger than ever because I’ve talked to others about starting medication and my fears. We talked a lot about that teenage girl and what things were like then vs now. I talked to that teenage part of myself after my session and told her we were going to be okay this time because we have learned a lot. I gave her a hug and we held hands for a moment.

Once I processed it all, I walked to the CVS around the corner from my house, picked up my medication, and felt accomplished. Yesterday was the best day I have had in several weeks. Just knowing I was taking a new step felt invigorating. This morning when I woke up, I took my first pill. The orange bottle with the little yellow pills stared up at me. I wondered in that moment if they chose yellow because it is attached to joy. I held it in my hand for a moment, returning back to my inner teenage self. I said it again: We are going to be okay. I swallowed that first pill this morning and afterwards I cried, hence the tear stains on my cheeks. I cried because I felt like I was in this new stage of growth where I could really see my progress. I cried because I was trying something new and new things are scary, but it’s never stopped me from anything before. I cried because I felt hopeful.

It’s been really tough for me these last few weeks, but with each breath I take it is a victory that I can’t even begin to describe. I have been in this low spot before and felt like I was never going to get out and I did. So, I know that no matter how hard it feels I will keep going. Each moment in life is leading me to the next. This sadness right now will lead to joy again, that much I do know.

I don’t expect this medicine to be a miracle drug. I don’t expect that tomorrow, or a week from now, or even a few months from now I will magically feel stable. I don’t even know if this medicine is going to be the right medicine for me. But none of this is really about the medication. This is all about the journey that I am on to healing. Each time I make a decision to choose myself, care for myself, and honor my truth is a moment of extreme healing. I spent a long time choosing others and I was the least important person in my life. I no longer feel that way. Just typing those words made me feel free. I am important and I care about myself and I will do whatever it takes to be here and thrive.

Also, if you’ve been wondering if medication is right for you, and I know that it is not right for everyone, just try to have some real conversations with yourself, with a therapist, and with your doctor. These are all vital pieces of support ensuring you’re making the best choice for yourself. I plan to update how I am feeling throughout the next few months and my journey with medication because that is part of the destigmatization process.

So, tune in next week as we continue to battle the stigma. 

A[wo]men

put down the shame,

pick up the pen.

write.

feel your pain

write.

paint the pages

write.

-more than one kind of medicine

A different side of anxiety

Hello all my quarantine cuties. I hope you’re all hangin’ in there, whatever hangin’ in there might look like for you. We’ve officially been on lockdown in New York for 25 days and many of us started social distancing long before that. I must say it has been a wild ride thus far.

Okay, actually, my brain is totally in protective mode and I feel numb to most of it right now. It’s like being on a rollercoaster and just as you’re reaching the peak, the person comes on the speaker and says “folks, we’re having some technical difficulties. Our maintenance person is on the scene and checking things out. Please standby.” You know you’re like still safe cuz it’s not like the ride is moving, but it’s freaky, but also what are you gonna do and like all you can do is just like sit there in the ride with your ass squeezed in there, and just like wait… Well, that’s how my quarantine is going anyways. Honestly, I thank my brain constantly for knowing what I can and can’t handle.

Aside from that all that though, life is still moving and I am continually trying to find the bright sides to this whole no human contact outside of work and groceries thing. I’ve been trying to occupy my brain space with other things, so I don’t have too much time to linger on much else. I’ve been writing a lot more, like outside of this blog. Which I actually don’t do that often, but want to do more of. I have this dream of writing short stories, more poems, perhaps even a book some day, but I lacked the motivation in the past. Right now, I don’t necessarily have the motivation, but I do have the time, so it makes it easier to self-motivate.

Writing, no matter what I am writing, is a way to help me process things, because remember I am a slow processor (see “A little less alone and a little bit more seen” for more details). Even when I am writing fiction type stories and I look them back over, I see a piece of myself in the characters and I recognize the areas of my life that I am working through. This week as I was writing about a kid that played too safe, never tried things she didn’t think she would be good at, I was like “oh shit, that me.”

I’ve filled my space and my head with activities I know I am good at because being good at something makes us feel good. That’s normal. However, it is hindering if I only do things I know I can be good at. Actually the quote that comes to mind here comes from one of my faves, Jake the Dog, from Adventure Time when he says “dude, suckin’ at something is the first step at becoming sorta good at something.” Jake the Dog is right, but gosh when I think about suckin’ at something it makes the perfectionist in me v. anxious.

The thing I’ve learned about anxiety though, is that we can still do stuff with anxiety. For instance, dating is so triggering for my anxiety, but guess what? I still go on dates. Sure, I have to remind myself to breathe and I drink water to keep moisture in my mouth because otherwise it’s completely void of it, but I do it. Dating has taught me a lot in my life, but that is the number one thing I have learned from it- no matter how scared you are to do something you still can. And not to brag, but now I’m becoming sorta good at dating (I think).

I’ve taken this lesson to help me through quarantine and I’ve started doing things that make me feel anxious. It all started with my photo shoot. I’ve been trying to grow my brand or whatever you wanna call it, and I thought a good way to do this would be to do a photoshoot with myself. This involved the dreaded makeup portion. To clarify, makeup is not needed for taking photo’s; however, I am scared of makeup because I don’t know how to do it and therefore wanted to try suckin’ at it so maybe I could be sorta good at it.

I was ready to jump in. I gathered my pack of makeup which consists of all one-four year old makeup. (I know it’s gross, please don’t shame me). As I was viewing all my tools I thought, ‘wouldn’t it be funny if I did one of those “makeup tutorial” type videos, but since I’m not good at it the end result will just look like mess?’ LOL. I turned on my camera and I just went really quick through it pretending like I knew what I was doing. Then, something strange happened. I looked in the mirror at the end and I thought “well, that’s weird. I actually really like it.” Can you believe? It wasn’t the Starry Nights of faces by any means, but like I even added a winged liner and they matched. I thought ‘who is this girl?’ And let me tell you, that photoshoot was fierce. I had so much fun just taking pictures and thinking of fun poses and picking out outfits. I was just totally entranced in it for a few hours, which is a big chunk of time in quarantine land.

All of this is to say that in this weird, bizarre land that we are living in now, I am finding some interesting ways to take up brain space, while also feeling brave. My anxiety is completely attached to this central idea I have of myself: I am not good enough. My therapist described this core belief as a sticky piece of paper that clings onto everything that will make it feel true. Every negative comment, every heartbreak, every rejection it will feed into that thought. My hands don’t tremble when someone says I’m not worthy; I shrug and say ‘you’re right.’ Which means my  goal is to change that central thought, which is what I have been working on for the last year. I want my central self to read: I am enough. So with every scary task that won’t feed into that narrative I am altering those words to how I want to feel. Every date I muster up the courage for, every blog post I write without being a trained writer, every photoshoot I do in the middle of my living room, every time I pull out my makeup and start painting my face is a chance for me to say no to that central idea. I will keep doing things that make my hands tremble because I know that means I am doing something important for myself. I know that means that I am saying “I am enough”.

We are living in a time where most of us are probably trembling, not just in our hands but throughout our entire being. Just know that those trembles are your body living, which means you are doing something really important for yourself. And if the trembling is too much to take right now, perhaps a break with some TV might help.

I recommend Seinfeld, but whatever works for you.

A[wo]men

*Featured photo from said photoshoot*

think of your first time falling in love

hands trembling

unable to eat

breathe

sleep.

why should our standards

be any less

for any other passions

we deem fit?

-a different side of anxiety

 

From the Year of Change to the Year of Stability

Hello loves, I would first like to start off by thanking you all for the kind words after my post about Alex Wolf. I am so happy to hear all the people that also want to live their life like Alex. As I continue to follow those words, I would also like to share that this will be my last post of 2019. Taking a bit of winter break for myself and focusing on building more stability and grounding. I will return in 2020 with more to talk about and *fingers crossed* more interviews. So for today, I would like to do my own year in review. Thank you, Spotify, for the idea.

My greatest hits of 2019 include:

1. Travel Girl  (feat. Hawaii, Rhode Island & Myrtle Beach)
2. Ending a Relationship (feat. my ex)
3. Alaska to New York
4. Goodbye first job, Hello new job
5. Got a new therapist, who dis?
6. Dating (half of NYC)
7. Oops, I got robbed on the train
8. Forever Missed (feat. Alex Wolf)

I am officially coining 2019 the year of change. There were so many ups and downs. Constant, life changing events were thrown in my direction. I would like to say I handled them with grace and ease, but I absolutely did not because I am human. I stumbled about as if I were a new born dear trying to walk. It was not pretty. I find something quite beautiful in that ugliness of living though. A bit of a contradiction, I suppose. Yet, it simply is the epitome of human life to fall and get up and fall and get up. It is how we learn to do most things in life. How can that not be beautiful in its ugliness?

While I reflect on the past and the ways that I careened through the year, I would also like to look toward the future. Typically, each year I make a list of things I hope to accomplish. I know, v. original. I went back in my blog for 2019 to see what my list said… There was no list. When 2019 began I was in a deep, deep depression. The future seemed bleak and if I remember correctly the only thing on my list was to heal. A to-do that I believe is never quite finished. We are always healing from new marks that find their way to us. Though, as I make my way to the end of 2019, I am in a completely different headspace. I now have the tools to help the healing and the wisdom to know that nothing is permanent. Things change, always.

With that being said, I want to highlight some changes I hope to see in 2020:

• Learn a new hobby (knitting?)
• Continue to work towards obtaining my LCSW
• Reduce CC debt by 50%
• Travel (Colorado, New Mexico, Alaska, Maine, Spain)
• Build strong relationships
• Run a 5k
• Fall in love with myself again, and again, and again
• Write more
• Scroll less
• A new president

If 2019 was the year of change, I would like 2020 to be the year of stability. All that change I went through was vital to my own growth; however, I want to feel more grounded as I enter this new year. This is also why I intend to take a break from writing for the next month. I plan to use that time to focus on my goals and come up with a concrete plan. I was a bit willy-nilly with how I moved through the world this year. I was very much reactive, rather than proactive. It is my hope to now become proactive. A trait I believe is curated as we age. In 2020, I will become 30 years old. Another decade will have passed in my life and I hope by the time I get there I understand myself in a deeper way and care for myself in the way I care for others.

They say we are creatures of habit, so I am encouraging us to create a habit of self-compassion this year. Let’s become so in love with ourselves that we can’t help but feel safe and stable in our own arms. Coin this year whatever you feel you need to move forward. Perhaps you need change, perhaps you need stability, perhaps you need something totally different. Just remember that your path is for you. Figure out what you need and let it guide you.

I will greet you all again in January, until then spread love to yourself and to others.

A[wo]men

it’s me

in the dew of the morning

in the dark of the night

through the forest

and the depths of the ocean

in the sunshine &

the moon

love & heartache

growth & regrowth

i am with me through it all

-you are your best partner through life

 

Alaska, My Love

Woah, y’all. Life has been crazy. I am talking “can you believe?” crazy! The kind of crazy that makes you want to dance and smile and be all kinds of happy. The thing I find most interesting about this happy dance time of mine is that I find it more difficult to write when I am feeling good. I believe it is similar to the idea that ‘therapy is only necessary when you aren’t feeling good’. It is supposed to fix the problems and there can’t possibly be problems when you are happy, right? *Momentary pause as I try to control my laughter* So, my life is the good kind of crazy right now, complete with all emotions coursing through my body, but joy is leading the way. This shift in emotional leaders all started when I got to leave the island.

I am sure you all would like to hear a little bit more about my trip to Anchorage because I really left y’all hanging. IT WAS MAGICAL. Anchorage is absolutely beautiful. It is the type of city that is surrounded by mountains and water and so. many. stars. Which reminds me, I had my first Northern Lights spotting. I would like to beg anyone to go see the Northern Lights and then try to argue with me about how life isn’t just a big magic show. THEY ARE LIGHTS THAT DANCE ACROSS THE SKY. Need I say more? On top of that, there is food that is to die for, hiking that is out of this world, a mall with an ice skating rink and a bowling alley… and my favorite part, Target. Yes, I am basic and yes, I did go to Target twice in the five days I was there. Not sorry.

As always on my trips I got to meet some wonderful people. That is always my favorite part of traveling. I am revived by the stories l hear from the people I will probably never see again and they still manage leave this impression on me that lasts forever. In case you forgot from my previous post, I was in Anchorage for a work training. It really sets the tone for meeting a lot of people doing some pretty bad-ass work in Alaska. I met a woman from Wisconsin *represent* who vacationed in Alaska and her vacations would get longer and longer until she just decided to stay. Since moving here she has been dedicated to building strong families across Alaska. We also talked about the Packers making it to the Super Bowl this year and her desire to never birth her own children. She was fantastic. I also met a woman from the FBI who works on fighting sex-trafficking and we talked about what self-care looks like for her in her line of work. In case you are wondering, it involves a lot of talking. There was also our fantastic bartender at the hotel who whipped out a knife to demonstrate that ‘Lucy can take care of herself!’ Oh, and the ice cream shop owners that were both packing heat as we ate our ice cream. Plus, out of all these great people, I also got to know my coworkers better! Couldn’t have asked for a better trip.

However, the most interesting aspect of leaving was missing my small town of Craig. If you go and read some of my previous posts, never did I ever think I would say those words. I really did though. I missed not having so many options. I oddly enjoy knowing I have basically one store to get my groceries. I also enjoy not having a Dave and Busters because that really messed with my head. I will never re-enter that hell pit again. I missed no traffic. I missed the air in Craig. Anchorage is exceptionally dry. (That tundra life tho.) I missed my friends and my job and my views and my car. It has been a little less than 5 months since I have moved here and I finally feel like I am starting to put down some roots and this odd little island is starting to feel more and more like home.

The thing I truly love about Prince of Wales Island, is the rich history that seeps into the way of life here. I spent yesterday out in Kasaan which is the Tlingit word translating to beautiful town. Kasaan 100% lives up to it’s name. It was flush with deep green trees and water that extended out to kiss the base of mountains. I have a jacket pocket filled deep with seashells and stones. I helped harvest devils club which could potentially be one of my cool, new hobbies? Though jam making is still a top contender. I felt extremely calm as I peeled the bright green root from the branch which helped make devils club tea. In that moment I understood why people come to vacation here and sometimes never leave. This island can transport you to a different time. I got chills as I sat in the Chief Son-i-Hat Whale House after just listening to the history and recent restoration of the ‘house with no nails’. MAGIC. I learned so much yesterday that I feel like I could write a whole book. As a person that loves school it was my favorite thing to be able to sit quietly and inhale all the knowledge that people on this island not only know, but live and breath by.

As is evident by my previous blog posts, I have bad days… sometimes bad weeks. Heck, high school was like four bad years. Yet, the more I am here the less I find myself trapped in that negative space. As I referenced in the beginning I feel happy and it is not because I don’t feel those other emotions, but because those other emotions pale in comparison to a clear sky in Alaska. I talk to families day in and day out about trauma and when I come home I take just a moment to look up. It makes the pain and heartache feel manageable. Witnessing nature is the best medicine I have found thus far and Alaska is abundant in it. Alaska, slowly, but surely, I am falling for you.

*Featured image was taken yesterday from the Kasaan beach. For more pictures from my Alaskan adventures follow me on Instagram: sarahlorrainerobinson *

Love Thy Naked Body

I am deprived of sleep, food, water and motivation. Forgive me Yeezy, for I have gone to a work conference. Since I hate skipping days, but have zero thoughts of what I would like to write about I am going to do a re-post from my previous blog of one of my favs. I hope you enjoy it. I will return with your regularly scheduled, up-to-date blog post next week.

‘I know we have all done this, some of more than others, but it is widely known that all people stare at themselves naked. If we didn’t stare at ourselves we wouldn’t be able to recognize changes in our bodies and that, my friends, is bad for science. Something particularly beautiful happened to me today as I stared at my naked body. Well, I guess I am getting ahead of myself. Let me begin with the basics of naked staring. I bet if I took a poll at who looked at themselves naked, everyone would say “Yes! I do!” If I took a second poll from that 100% and asked “how many stare at their body and don’t like what they see?” I am guessing that number would be around 70%. Maybe that is an exaggeration, but from all the remarks I hear on self esteem I can’t imagine there is a large number of us who like our naked selves. I know I was part of that 70%. The worst part is I would be thinking about what others would think… about MY NAKED BODY. I would sit there and think to myself, “no wonder I am single, look at me”. How fucked up is that? First of all, if we picked our significant others based on how the naked body looks to us we would all be walking around naked, all the time. I could join a nudist colony if I wanted that. Also, have you seen naked men? I enjoy them keeping it in pants. Those things just fly all over the place! I wouldn’t be able to go to the grocery store without fear of getting stabbed by their pork swords… Second of all, I never thought to wonder what Ithought of my naked body. This is where the beautiful thing comes into play. I am standing in front of my full length mirror and I stop for a second and think “damn, I look good.” In fact, Meghan Trainer came into my head. You know, ‘all the right junk, in all the right places’.

It was like I saw my body as my own for the first time. The best part was that it had nothing to do with my weight loss. Even if I hadn’t lost a single pound yet I would have been able to really look at myself. I saw the way my body curves and sags and bends. How fucking cool is that? My body was my own today, for the first time in a really long time. I didn’t ponder over what boys would think or how I would compare standing next to Natalie Portman, I was just looking at me. I can’t describe to you how therapeutic it is until you discover it yourself.

Today, I watched a video on upworthy.com about diets and how they are controlled by capitalism. I know it almost sounds like a conspiracy theory, but it was actually pretty valid. In the video she made a lot of really good points. The best point being the fact that we blame ourselves when diets don’t work. We see ourselves as the failures vs. the diet being the failures. It echoed around in my brain, “failure, failure, failure” *light bulb* “Wait, I am not a failure?” No, I am not and neither are you. Okay, I guess I don’t personally know everyone reading this, but if you have any experiences like mine via addiction, I am guessing you are not a failure. When I looked at myself in the mirror I realized everything I thought I knew was so very wrong about humans. We are a goddamn piece of art. If you put us all together with all of our shades and shapes and thoughts, we are the David of sculptures. The Northern Lights of the sky. We are pretty amazing.

Love thy naked body. ‘

-Reposted from wiscocheesefries.tumblr.com [Feb 8th, 2015]

 

Committing to Adventure

Alright folks, today is a big day. It may not seem like a big day you to you mainlanders, but to me it is huge! I am leaving the island for the first time in four months. ANCHORAGE HERE I COME. This has been the biggest struggle for me living here… knowing I can’t just get away. This I think is good for me in a lot of ways. I am a runner in all senses of the word. I like to physically run and I really enjoy mentally running. Dear future husband, Runaway Bride is a severe possibility. Here is your warning. I say that it is good for me though because it is teaching me to accept a lot of things about myself. Many of those things are the things I keep running from.

For instance, I have to accept this very fact I am writing about… Commitment. *shudders* Commitment is super scary to me. I don’t like feeling stuck and committing to something really feels like it means I am stuck. There are really beautiful things about being stuck though. Like maybe you are stuck because you are in a crowd in a concert that you love and their music is gracing your ear holes. Or maybe you are stuck because the person you love has glued you to their side and you are with that person for life and you know no matter how smelly your poop is they will still love you. And just perhaps you are stuck on a magical little island in Alaska figuring out that being stuck isn’t always a bad thing. No matter how much I am forced to look at the beauty of being stuck though, every part of my body will always yearn for travel. That bug will never die. I suppose you could say I am stuck with it…

So, the thing I really want to focus on today is why I love traveling so much. Because I really love traveling. ‘Can you believe?’ I mean I love all parts of traveling. That’s right, folks, I love being stinky and sitting next to weird strangers and having to continually lug around my bags around an airport and getting groped by TSA. There is something so incredibly intoxicating about an airport. Honestly, airplanes in general are pure magic and will never make sense to me. Little buses for the sky that just commute people at 500 mph. Now, that I really can’t believe. THE FUTURE IS NOW.

I think what I love so much about the adventure is the unpredictability. I am a very scheduled person. I get up, I make my breakfast, I go to work, I go for a run, I watch friends on M,W,F and Rise on Tuesday and Jersey Shore and my missed episode of Riverdale on Thursdays. On the weekends I am a little more flexible, but it’s generally the same. Of course, big things happen in between, but for my own anxiety levels it helps to have a general routine. When I am traveling though, some other Sarah takes over. All of the sudden my mindset of what I need goes out of the window. There are strangers to meet and new places to explore. “Did I just see a sign for the world’s best cup of coffee, I better check that out! Oh, according to yelp, the world’s largest shoe lives here. Oh Em Gee, Kesha has stood in this exact spot I am standing on. This pool is nice. I am never leaving this pool.” DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN? I just become this cool, calm, collected go with the flow type. I am not that type. I’m the type A, all dishes must be moved from the sink and all laundry folded immediately. You tell me I am on vacation though and all of the sudden something clicks in my brain. It’s fascinating really.

My favorite part though, is the feeling of freedom I get from jumping town to town, state to state, and country to country. I know I have an exorbitant amount of privilege for being able to do so. I feel so incredibly lucky to have such privilege and I wholeheartedly wish I could share it with everyone. That is why I love that I travel and have a blog (and an Instagram), I can share things with those that can’t necessarily get there. Even though I can’t go buying people plane, train, and automobile passes, I can take your imaginations and possibly give you an idea for your own adventures.

Which reminds me, that if you can’t travel there is always unpredictability outside of your door. Just because we have lived somewhere for some time, doesn’t mean there isn’t something new to discover. Each day is an adventure… that could lead to a magic bus in the sky.

Send me your new discoveries! I would love to get a glimpse of your adventures. & if you would like to see my travel to Anchorage this week follow me on Insta: sarahlorrainerobinson

PS: I am going for work, so it’s not exactly a vacation, but if a magic sky bus is involved that’s all my brain needs to make the switch to ‘go with the flow’ Sarah.

 

From WI to AK, With Love

Hello! I would like to start off by congratulating all of you for making it to 2018 because I know some of you had your doubts that 2017 would ever end. Look at us thriving here in the new year. Pat yourself on the back today, if for nothing else, but making it through another year. You go Glenn Coco.

This week I would like to address something that I have been asked about a lot and I think I am ready to process it all: What is the move to Craig, Alaska really like? And I must say when moving here, there was not a whole lot of information on the subject, so maybe this will help someone out in the future.

First of all, I want to say that my move is unique to my own situation and I have heard some horror stories about moving here and I have heard of some really lovely alternative ways to get here, so please keep this in mind. Moving here for me was probably a bit simpler because A: I am as single as a single person can be. Meaning, I have no pets, no children, no plants. The only thing I had to keep alive was me. That makes moving a whole heck of a lot easier. B: I was moving out of my parents house, where virtually nothing belonged to me. Therefore, I didn’t have to travel with furniture. These two things are crucial to my story.

Now, with all that being said… I also want to point out that I am a planner. I am impulsive, yes, but an impulsive planner. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but I swear it makes sense to me and to everyone that knows me. When it came to my move to Alaska, I had hotels booked, my route mapped out, and my schedule on point. Now, the thing about being an impulsive planner is that the plan often goes to shit, because I am typically planning like 4 hours before I have to leave. Oddly enough, it worked this time.

If I had to recommend one thing to people moving here, it is that the less you own the better. Especially if you are moving from a place where you have to drive more than 3 hours to the ferry. PURGE EARLY AND PURGE OFTEN. Of course, this is just my motto for any move, but most important for a move where you have to take multiple modes of transportation. Moving to an island is a whole new ball game, my friends. Let me just lay this out for you.

As most moves go, there is a lot to do before you even leave. For instance, finding a place to live. Now, typically this is a bit easier with sites like apartmentfinder.com, but that does not exist on the island of Prince of Wales. Apartment finding is done by WOM aka word of mouth aka my high school advertising professor’s favorite word. WOM is really hard when you don’t live in the place to even speak to anyone. Luckily the place that hired me was all over it. They sent me some options and low and behold I am in one of my favorite apartments I have ever rented. Now, this sounds like it was a nice simple choice for me, but if you ask my family and friends I struggled for a way too long before I chose this place. See, the other thing about Prince of Wales is that because it is a tourist area there are actually a lot of places that are furnished. The idea of furnished apartment scared the shit out of me. I don’t know why, but it really did. Like what if I hate the furniture? Except, it was the greatest decision I had ever made. How the hell I thought I was going to get furniture to this island is beyond me. That was definitely my pre-move struggle. Now, I highly recommend furnished apartments to everyone. It makes moving so, so much easier. Once that was settled, I was on my way to a new life.

I started my journey with a 16 hour drive from Grafton, WI to Miles City, MO. At 2am I woke up wide-eyed and bushy-tailed for my journey to my new home. The car was pre-loaded the evening prior thanks to my fam. Of course, copious amounts of coffee and Swedish fish were in tow as well. Which reminds me, if you are moving to an island in Alaska, I beg of you to actually just forget everything you own and stack your car with dry goods and toiletries. A BOX OF CEREAL IS $7. This is important, v. important. I, however, felt stupid sentimental ties to things like my clothes and pictures of my loved ones, like a goddamn idiot. I was a fool. Obvi, I am slightly joking, but really I wish I would have brought like 10x’s the amount of dangerously cheap things from Wisconsin. Mistakes were made, and now I am literally paying for it. I digress, my drive to Montana was oddly okay. I hit one traffic jam in Minnesota and then it was smooth sailing from there. So, to recap day one was Wisco, to Minnesota, to North Dakota, to Montana. I am getting tired just writing it. My other piece of advice is to bring a buddy. I traveled alone and when I saw cool things, I only had my Swedish fish to tell. They appreciated it though, I could tell from their smiles. As day 1 came to a close, I feasted on McDonalds, as one traveling does, and then went swimming. Another important piece of advice! Always pick a hotel with a pool. I felt like a new woman after that swim.

I planned my trip with the notion that each day I would lose more and more energy, so I made day 1 the longest trip with day 2 shortening to a 10 hour drive and day 3 to a 6 hour drive. Bless my smart little heart because that was the best darn planning I have ever done. Day 2 and 3 now feel like a blur. There was Montana to Idaho to Washington. I remember driving through some mountains and seeing some bison. I also remember more swimming, but that is about it. My head was just racing because I knew the next leg of the trip involved a ferry. And not just any old ferry, but a three day ferry from Bellingham, WA to Ketchikan, AK. Yes, you read that correctly. This three day ferry didn’t even bring me to my final destination. To my surprise though, the ferry was SO cool though. I just drove my car onto the boat and didn’t really have to worry about much else for three days. I will say that there is zero reception on this ferry, so pre-downloading episodes on Netflix will save a life. Pass it on.

After arriving to Ketchikan, I then had to take another ferry! Luckily, this one was only three hours. Unfortunately, I arrived at 7am and my next ferry didn’t leave until 2pm. So, I did what any sane person would do… I shopped at Wal-Mart for several hours and bought shit I definitely didn’t need out of pure boredom and exhaustion. Then I finally got onto my next ferry, which seemed surprisingly fast and made it the island! Now, at this point it is pitch black on an island I am not familiar with and it is raining. I thought my guts were going to fall out of my butt. That was when it truly hit me… I moved to fucking Alaska. That’s right, my move did not hit me until I was actually off the ferry. Everything before that felt like some odd vacation I was taking alone.

Now that I have been here for a whole month, that whole journey seems like a distant dream. Adjusting to life in Craig has been fairly easy. Don’t get me wrong, I have cried and questioned my impulsive decision at times, but not nearly as much as I anticipated. Maybe it is the island pace or the kind souls I work with or the fact that the view out of my window looks like a landscape artist drew it? Whatever the reason, I am grateful for it.

Onto the real dirt though because I know y’all just want to know about what I hate about being here. I hate the time difference because calling people is a scheduling nightmare. My east coast friends are a 4 hour difference and with my work schedule it doesn’t leave much room to chat. The vegetarian imitation meats are sub-par, but I was spoiled in NYC. I could order vegetarian chicken from pretty much anywhere and expect it to be good. It rains a lot here, which some people might hate, but I actually quite enjoy. There are also like a very limited amount of restaurants, and by that I mean like two pizza places and a diner. For that, however, I am grateful. I’m pretty sure half of my student loans went to GrubHub in NYC. I also am still terrified of the potential to run into bears regardless of what everyone keeps telling me. Finally, I hate living alone. I know I am freak, but I like having a roommate. I like someone to be all up in my business.

So, there you have it! My journey to and my life in Craig. Of course, it has only been a month and I am sure many more discoveries about the island are to come. I’ve barely begun to explore this beautiful place I currently call home. If you would like to follow this journey further find me on insta: sarahlorrainerobinson Now that I think about it, it’s like a picture book version of my blog. Excellent.